The Interim
by Lady of Parchment and Ink
Summary: A lot can happen in nineteen years. Set in between the last chapter and the epilogue of The Deathly Hallows, this is how I imagine those nineteen years of the Golden Trio's lives unfolded. Potentially AU. Please R&R. ****ON HIATUS****
1. Chapter One

**AN: Hello lovelies! I have returned, and with a new idea for a story to boot! Never fear, I haven't abandoned my other Harry Potter fanfic,** ** _Threads of Fate_** **(which if you haven't read yet go and check it out), but this story has been buzzing around in my brain for quite a while now, and so I just need to get it out on paper! I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Chapter One: The Aftermath

It was over. Really and truly and completely over. Voldemort lay on the cold stone floor of the Great Hall, his serpent-like eyes no longer seeing and his lungs no longer drawing breath. The Elder Wand would been returned to its rightful place, sealed away with Dumbledore, so that it's power would die as Harry did. Hermione almost couldn't believe it. She had always believed herself to be a rational witch, and so deep down she had known that there was a slim chance of them succeeding in ridding the world of Lord Voldemort. The fact was, however, that against insurmountable odds, they had in fact succeeded, and the brightest witch of the age was incredibly proud of what she and her friends had accomplished.

However, their victory had not come without a cost, and as Ron held her hand tightly, she couldn't help but think about how he had lost his brother, how Harry had lost his godfather, how little Teddy Lupin had lost both his parents - how nearly everyone they knew had lost someone incredibly important to them; someone they had loved, someone whose absence would leave a gaping hole in their life. Hermione fought against the tears welling in her eyes as she thought of all they had lost in order to achieve their victory today. Suddenly Ron's hand felt as though it was suffocating her skin, and she tore it away from him, ignoring the hurt look in his wide blue eyes as she turned from his gaze, drawing a steadying breath. She felt as though the world was pressing in on her, and she simply needed to get away. Turning to Ron, she reached up and tenderly touched his face.

"Ron..." she whispered. "I'm sorry. I know this is horrible timing. But we've lost so much, so many people we've loved." Ron looked down at the wild haired witch, a frown marring his face. She pressed on. "If there is a chance my parents are out there, alive somewhere, I need to find them. If there's any chance at all, I need to know. I can't lose them forever as well." Leaning up on her toes, she pressed a soft kiss to his downturned lips, before turning swiftly on her heel and nearly running away from the boy she loved, tears silently rolling down her face.

* * *

Ron stared in stunned silence after Hermione, his mouth gaped open rather unattractively. They'd finally come together; why on earth was she leaving? Anger started to stir deep inside him, roiling in his guts and spreading though his blood like poison. His temper burst free, and he couldn't help the horrible thoughts that seeped into his mind. He'd just lost his brother, his family was in turmoil, and he needed her now more than ever. Hermione had always been his rock, steady and unwavering in any situation, unfailingly loyal to a fault. He sneered, his features twisting into something ugly and angry.

* * *

Harry stared into Ginny Weasley's green eyes, swollen and red from crying, and thought how he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was riding a high - his lifelong enemy was gone; there was no more sinister threat looming over them like a dark cloud. Being involved with him would no longer put her life in danger. He smiled quietly to himself, laying a kiss on his love's forehead. He twirled the Elder Wand carefully in between his fingers, and studied the unassuming sliver of wood. To imagine something so seemingly inoffensive could produce so much damage... Harry repressed a shudder, and silently thanked Merlin that it was over. He still couldn't quite believe that it was truly finished, it felt as though any second Voldemort would pop out from around a corner. He studied the Elder Wand a moment more, before grasping it in between his hands, and with a sense of finality, it snapped satisfyingly in two. Ginny looked questioningly up at him, but he simply smiled down at her. The words left his mouth almost without his consent;

"Ginny Weasley, will you marry me?"

 **AN: Okay, that seems like a decent enough place to end off the first chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it; feel free to leave me a review :)**

 **xo**

 **T**


	2. Chapter Two

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Chapter Two: Descending and Ascending

Rob Weasley sat rigidly atop a barstool in the dilapidated building which housed the Hog's Head Pub. Anger filled his veins, and he tossed back the final dregs of his pint glass before motioning to the barkeep for another firewhiskey. Images danced in his brain - his brother, lying cold and motionless on the unforgiving stone tiles of the Great Hall, his mother's anguished howl as she held Fred's lifeless body, Hermione's face as she turned and walked away from him. He clenched his fist around the mug that had just been placed in front of him, raised it to his lips, tipped his head back, and drained the glass.

"Another." He rumbled, his voice a furious growl. The barkeep raised his eyebrows at the distraught young man in front of him, but placed another glass down on the dingy counter regardless, filling it to the brim with golden firewhiskey.

Fred's funeral had been that morning, two weeks exactly from the Battle of Hogwarts. The rain had steadily drizzled over all the gathered mourners, adding an acute sense of depression to the whole affair. Molly Weasley's wails could be heard throughout the otherwise silent graveyard, and Arthur Weasley's eyes were vacant as he shook hands with the wizards and witches approaching him to offer their condolences. Hermione hadn't been in attendance, and this fact simultaneously broke Ron's heart whilst making his blood boil. At the end of the ceremony, a rainbow had broken through the oppressive clouds, and George had looked to the sky and whispered quietly "Hey Freddie."

Even though Harry had since told him the story of finding himself in King's Cross Station after being hit with the Killing Curse, Ron found the idea slightly ludicrous. After all that had happened... he just couldn't believe. People who died were gone, erased from this life as quickly as footprints in sand. After all he'd seen, every horrific thing, he found it hard to believe that there was anything at all after one passed.

Tipping his drink to his mouth once again, Ron drained his glass once more before rising unsteadily to his feet, dropping a few Galleons on the counter, and stumbled out into the night. The darkness of the street outside enveloped him like a glove, cold air permeating his bones and causing him to pull his cloak closer around himself. He shivered involuntarily, but continued to wobble down the darkened street, not entirely sure where his destination was.

"Ron?" A girlish voice queried from the shadows. Romilda Vane stepped into the light, her teeth shining white in the moonlight.

"'Ello." Ron replied, his speech slow due to how much firewhiskey he'd consumed earlier. Romilda's eyes danced.

"You're in no fit state to be wandering around town at this hour." She tsked like a mother hen, smirking and wrapping her arm around his sagging shoulders. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Later that night, Ron lay in an unfamiliar bed, the sleeping figure of Romilda Vane covered by a thin quilt lying next to him. His mind wandered to Hermione, and he wondered if she'd be hurt to know what had just transpired. He smiled vindictively at the thought, before drifting away into a dreamless sleep, lulled by the firewhiskey still running through his bloodstream.

* * *

Hermione held a small piece of parchment clutched tightly in her left fist, the words _919 Elizabeth Street_ nearly illegible from being folded and then unfolded multiple times. The August heat beat against Hermione's freckled skin and sweat beaded at the nape of her neck; even though she had spent nearly three months in Australia, she was still woefully unaccustomed to the blistering heat. Taking a deep steadying breath, she looked down one final time at the tattered piece of parchment before carefully studying the small bungalow in front of her. The numbers 919 glistened bronze in the glittering sunlight and the single tree planted on the lush green front lawn cast dappled shadows. Sheer curtains were pulled across the front window, and as Hermione watched, movement from inside the house ruffled them slightly.

She took one more breath, and then began to walk towards the door. Her hands began to sweat slightly, and she clenched them into fists. She'd been looking for her parents for months, following every possible lead. Everything so far had lead her to a dead end; this was her last shot. Coming to a halt at the top of the concrete steps, she lifted the bronze door knocker and tapped on the door sharply three times. Holding her breath tightly in her chest, she froze as the door slowly swung open.

Standing on the doorstep, a bewildered look on her petite face, was Hermione's mother.

"Wendell and Monica Wilkins?" Hermione breathed, not daring to believe it. The look on her mother's face turned questioning.

"Why yes dear, that would be me and my husband. Can we help you?" A hot tear streaked down Hermione's cheek, and Mrs. Grangers face turned concerned.

"Why I say dear, are you all right?" Hermione nodded wordlessly, pulling her wand out of her pocket and shakily pointing it at her mother.

" _Memorari_." She whispered under her breath, watching her mother's eyes go blank before filling with an awareness they had previously lacked.

"Hermione?" She breathed gently.

"Mom?" Hermione launched herself into her mother's arms, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, so similar to Hermione's own. It smelled like finally coming home.

* * *

 **AN: Hello again my lovelies! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'm kind of on a roll with this story right now so I'm hoping to have another chapter done for you soon. I know there wasn't any signs of Harry in this chapter but I'm hoping to dedicate the entirety of the next chapter to Harry, so don't worry! If you liked this chapter, please leave me a review!**

 **Xo**

 **T**


	3. Chapter Three

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Chapter Three: Family Ties

Ginny's stunned face began to turn a brilliant shade of red as Harry looked at her worriedly. The words had almost popped out of his mouth of his own accord, but of course, now that they were out there he could not take them back. Her mouth opened and closed several times, and Harry patted himself on the back internally as this was the only time he had ever managed to make Ginevra Weasley speechless.

"Harry..." she began, her voice quavering. Harry's heart sank down into his shoes. "I'm only sixteen... we can't get married now." Harry blinked owlishly at her before replying.

"It could be a long engagement." He answered solemnly. "Ginny, I've been in love with you since sixth year. With all that's happened these past few months, I can't stand the thought of ever being without you. I know that we both have things that we want to accomplish in our lives, but why can't we do them together?" Ginny regarded him calmly, mulling his statement over in her mind. She knew she loved him, that much she was sure of. With a slight smile in her voice, she whispered,

"Let's get married." Harry whooped loudly, picking her up around her waist and swinging her in a circle. "Not right now, of course." She continued once he had set her firmly on her feet. "But a long engagement would be okay." Harry just nodded, unable to stop smiling. The prospect of once again having a family had put a warm feeling in his chest.

* * *

"Mom?" Hermione asked softly. The awareness that had been in her mother's eyes only moments before had faded, and she was now looking at Hermione with panic in her eyes.

"Who are you? Where am I? What is going on?" Her mother wailed. Hermione could hear her father's footsteps pounding through the house towards his distraught wife, and as tears streaked down her face she turned on her heel and ran from the door, as fast as her legs would carry her. Once she had gotten out of sight, she fell to her knees, curling her arms around her abdomen and allowing the sobs to tear from her, unbidden. Perhaps if she gave her mother some time... she would recover. Hermione knew that restoring memories was unsuccessful as often as not, and she only hoped that she hadn't done any permanent damage. Without her family, she felt so lost.

* * *

Ron glared hard at the dirt, as though the ground could simply open up and swallow his pain. He'd left Romilda's not an hour ago, her sleeping figure completely unaware that she was now alone. He supposed he was doing horribly at dealing with his feelings, but as Hermione had once said to him, he had "the emotional range of a teaspoon". Thinking of Hermione, however, simply made him feel worse, and he shoved the witch to the very back of his mind. He was dealing with enough as it was, his emotions threating to overtake him every minute. Even his family was shattered, the loss of Fred rocking the Weasley's to their very core.

 **AN: Sorry for the short chapter guys but I've been stuck on this for a while now so I figured I'd just upload what I had and hopefully the next chapter comes more readily.**

 **Xoxo**

 **T**


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